


Side Tracked - Pub night

by Aurora_bee



Series: Side Tracked [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Drugs, Fluff, Gen, Hurt, Love, M/M, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:23:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_bee/pseuds/Aurora_bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is drugged, what will Sherlock do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not exactly a Puppy Tails fic, but it is for the audience.

It had started out just like every other Thursday pub night. Drinks with the boys, Stamford and his old Army mates. The first thing Stamford did was ask how life with Sherlock had been going, John had grimaced as usual. Stamford had grinned stupidly, knowing John was loving it. They all stood around the bar together downing pints talking about Rugby. John made pleasant conversation with the ‘odd ball’ of the group Jeff. He felt sorry for him, no-one seemed to include him in their conversations. Jeff was a nice enough chap, but always seemed to turn the conversation around to himself. Must have been lonely, John thought, and he knew that feeling himself all too well. 

All those pints he’d drunk weren’t laying well on his bladder, so he excused himself to go to the loo. Jeff shouted after him.

“I’ll get another pint in for you while you get rid of the last one.” John smiled Jeff wasn’t so bad. John really was going to be drunk when he got home if he carried drinking pints quite so fast though. The next one would be his last he thought to himself. He really didn’t want a hangover and Sherlock to deal with in the morning. John looked at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands. God he looked tired, home after this pint, then bed.

Twenty minutes later John felt like he was swaying, the world kept going in and out of focus. He struggled to listen to conversations, it was if he was outside his own body. Jeff kept holding his arm, and he kept batting his hand away. Maybe Jeff had noticed he was feeling a little more drunk than usual. Maybe that last pint hadn’t been a good idea after all. 

“I’m going to make a move now.” John said to the air around him and moved toward the door. Jeff took his elbow.

“I’ll give you a hand mate.” The boys waved them off as Jeff steered John out the door. After a few minutes John realised they were going in the wrong direction. They turned down a dark dirty side alley. Jeff pushed him hard against the wall pressing his crotch into Johns.

“Get off me!” John yelled trying to co-ordinate his arms to push the bastard who was trying to stick his tongue down his throat away. 

“I know you want me.” Jeff moaned his erection pushing into the top of John’s thigh. John wanted to be sick. He couldn’t seem to gather enough strength to do anything. Jeff undid John’s flies and slid his hand in almost touching the flesh. “I know I can make you hard, like your Sherlock does.” John heard a shout then.

“Oi, what do you think you’re doing!” Stamford must have followed them John thought as he managed to push Jeff’s hand away. Now Jeff was caught. Date rape drugs may cause memory loss for the victim but if someone else saw…. Then the world’s only consulting detective found out… Jeff was a rapist not a killer so he ran for his life. Stamford managed to catch John before he hit the floor.

 

Stamford was just about able to hold John in one hand and open the door to 221 Baker Street with the other.

“Sherlock!” He shouted, there didn’t seem to be any movement in the flat upstairs. “Sherlock!” He screamed. “John’s ill.” Suddenly there was a thump and Sherlock was rushing down the stairs barefoot in his pyjamas. Sherlock grabbed John.

“John?” He looked at Stamford. “Who drugged him?” Sherlock looked down at John’s trousers to discover they were undone. He calmly did the zip back up. “Who touched him?” He said angrily. Stamford eyed Sherlock warily, he knew the danger signs.

“Jeffery Alderman. Nothing happened Sherlock I stopped it before….” Sherlock growled. 

“I think you should go, I’m quite capable of taking care of John.” Stamford looked Sherlock in the eye.

“You need to make sure he doesn’t get dehydrated and get a urine sample in the morning. He’s going to have a huge hang over tomorrow so don’t play the violin.” Sherlock got John into a fireman’s lift and climbed up the stairs. Stamford called up after him. “I’ll be over tomorrow to check on him.”

 

Sherlock laid John on the sofa, probably the best place for him. He could keep an eye on him if he went to sleep. John was smiling at him manically.

“John?” He asked. John tried to sit up. Sherlock put his arms around John and turned him around so his feet were on the floor. There was something wet on his neck. He went to brush it away and his hand made contact with John’s head. “Oh..” John was kissing his neck.

“I want to do things to you Sherlock.” John moaned, Sherlock stood back looking like a deer in headlights.

“I think you ought to know John you have been drugged, and you don’t really mean what you’re saying.” John swayed slightly.

“Oh I do Sherlock. I’ve wanted to say it to you for so long. I’d do anything for you. I think I love you.” John reached out and tugged on the cord of Sherlock’s Pyjama bottoms pulling him closer. John stood up, put his hand in Sherlock’s hair and pulled him down. Their lips met. Sherlock responded for a second then pulled away.

“No John. I can’t, you’re not yourself, and you won’t remember this tomorrow.” A tear appeared at the corner of his eye. John flopped back onto the sofa upset.

“You don’t love me do you.” John said quietly. Sherlock wiped the tear away.

“John, I do love you. I do want you to do those things to me.” John reached out looking up at Sherlock eyes pleading.

“Let me then. If I don’t remember you will.” Sherlock ran his fingers through his hair. John did have a logical argument there. If Sherlock let John suck him, and fuck him he wouldn’t be taking advantage. If John didn’t remember he could pretend it had never happened. Sherlock closed his eyes thinking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Sherlock is a good man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments they allowed me to finish this fic, hopefully you will enjoy it.
> 
> The 'no's' won :)

Sherlock took Gladstone downstairs and asked Mrs Hudson to take care of him. 

“What’s wrong Sherlock?” She said touching his arm. “I heard Mike drop John off, he’s ill?” Sherlock nodded in response. She looked worried. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No.” Sherlock shook his head. “Just promise me that whatever you hear you won’t come up. Not until morning.” She frowned.

“Really Sherlock, do you think you should take him to the hospital?” She was wringing her hands now.

“Stamford assured me if I keep him well hydrated he will be fine.” He kissed her cheek. “Everything will be fine.”

 

John was still on the sofa when Sherlock returned waiting for an answer. He looked more lost than he had before.

“Sherlock?” His eyes asked the question, Sherlock looked away. This was too hard to deal with.

“I need you to come with me.” Sherlock said as he helped John up. “You’re going to sleep in my room tonight.” John looked hopeful. Sherlock carried John’s weight to his bedroom and sat him on the bed.

“Pleeease.” Sherlock looked at John no emotion in his face, all hidden underneath and pushed down for no-one to see. He pulled John’s useless arms out of his jacket and threw it onto the chair, then knelt down on the floor and took his shoes and socks off. He could feel John shaking beneath his hands.

“Lay down.” Sherlock commanded.

“I love you Sherlock.” John whispered, Sherlock tried not to show any emotion but he failed, a tear drop rolled down his face and landed on John’s hand. “Oh…” John groaned.

“You said you love me John, and I’m proving I love you.” He pushed John back onto the pillows and put a gentle kiss on his temple. “You may not remember this in a few hours. I do love you John Watson, I want to hold you, and I want to make you happy. But not today.” He pulled the sheet out from under John’s feet and pulled it up over him. John sighed, heartbroken. It took a while for Sherlock to look away, his stomach hurt his whole chest ached. He couldn’t give John what he wanted. In vino, veritas. 

Sherlock moved like a robot, he fetched the mop bucket minus mop and put it next to the bed. He washed a beaker in the kitchen filled it with water and put it on the bedside table. Then he left shut the door behind him sliding down it onto the floor. Head in his hands and tears in his eyes. 

“Sherlock!!!!!!” John cried out, Sherlock sobbed. John continued to shout till his throat was sore. 

An hour later all was quiet in the bedroom. Sherlock got up, the tears were still falling but he had to check on John. He pushed the door open slightly. John had fallen asleep. Dirty tear tracks trailed down his face. Sherlock got a flannel from the bathroom ran it under the cold tap. He looked into the mirror he didn’t look much better than John.

Carefully he took the flannel and wiped John’s face without waking him. Everything would feel better in the morning. He closed the door behind him and slumped down against it again. It was the closest he could be to John at that moment.

 

Mrs Hudson quietly walked into the flat Gladstone at her heels. She spotted Sherlock asleep on the floor cross legged by his bedroom door. Gladstone wondered over and settled on his uncle’s lap. Sherlock unconsciously accepted the warmth and rested a hand on his back. Mrs Hudson sniffed, she’d be back up later to make her boys breakfast and have a tidy.

 

Sherlock and Gladstone woke to the sound of John vomiting. Gladstone scratched the door and they walked into the bedroom. John was using the flannel to wipe his mouth.

“Oh god, how did I get here? I really did drink to much last night.” John sat up taking the glass of water next to him and downing half of it in one go. He looked over at Sherlock. “Shit Sherlock you look worse than I feel.”

“Yes you were rather a handful last night John.” John frowned, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry Sherlock, I just, I can’t even remember anything.” John scratched his head. “I usually remember bits.” He said confused. Sherlock sat next to him and touched his hand.

“John I need to tell you something about last night and I need you to stay calm.” John put the glass back down on the bedside table.

“Go on Sherlock.” John cleared his throat, looking Sherlock in the eye. 

“A friend of yours, Jeff, drugged you last night. His intention being to take advantage of you.” Sherlock’s eyes filled up. “Stamford stopped him before he could hurt you.”

“Jesus Sherlock.” Gladstone jumped on the bed. He knew there was something not right and he wagged his tail. John reached out and rubbed his head. “Where is he now?”

“Mycroft has him.” Sherlock hadn’t been idle while John was asleep. When he’d texted Mycroft, he’d been well aware of the incident and Jeff was already in his hands.

“Can I see him? When I feel a bit more up to it.” Sherlock nodded. Gladstone turned over to have his belly rubbed. John obliged, Gladstone wriggled in response, Sherlock grinned. 

“What would we do without our little companion?” He stood up. “I really should feed him and take him out for a walk. Do you need anything John?” John shook his head, as Sherlock walked to the door.

“Sherlock, really, thank you. I’m lucky to have you as a friend.” Sherlock tried to smile, and turned around. “I love you.” John whispered under his breath as Sherlock closed the door.

 

There was an odd little fact that John didn’t realise about the Holmes family. Something that he really should have noticed, being a consulting detective’s blogger. They all had exceptionally good hearing.

After Sherlock had closed the bedroom door he had jumped in the air punching his fist. His heart had finally stopped feeling so heavy. He wasn’t going to be alone much longer. Now all he had to do was get John to say it to his face.

 

It was two days later when a big black car pulled up outside Baker Street, ready to take John to see Jeff. Sherlock had wanted to go with him but John had insisted he do it alone. He got in the car Sherlock stood by the front door, his features frozen hiding the anger inside him.

“Don’t follow me Sherlock. I need to do this on my own.” Sherlock had watched as the car pulled away taking his friend to see the man that might have ruined him, wanting nothing more than to use his organs in some experiment.

 

John walked into a large white room, Jeff was handcuffed sitting at a table in the centre. He looked petrified. John sat down opposite him.

“I’m sorry.” Jeff said his head down. John scowled.

“That’s not good enough. You knew I was drugged.” Jeff sniffed.

“These people are going to kill me aren’t they?” John shook his head.

“You need to be punished Jeff, but not like that. They’re going to take you to a facility that will help you. Then you’ll be given a new identity and monitored, because if Sherlock finds you he WILL kill you.” Jeff nodded.

“Thank you.” John lifted Jeff’s chin and squeezed.

“And if I find out you’ve even tried to take advantage of someone vulnerable again you won’t see what hit you.” John stood straightening his jacket, and walked out of the room without looking back.

 

No-one saw him slip the pill into the drink. He’d lost all hope of getting what he wanted, but if this gave him a chance. This was a minute one he was willing to take, even if he didn’t remember. He would have eight or so hours of all those intense feelings he dreamt of. But he should have known better.

Many things had been said about Sherlock Holmes, sociopath, psycho, rude, thoughtless… But he was a good man, a moral man. Jeff had palmed John the pill probably thinking he would give it to Sherlock. Jesus he’d been too drunk to even think about what that said about Jeff. John had taken it himself trusting his friends. The worst mistake he had ever made.

John stood in the kitchen watching Sherlock throw Gladstone’s ball around the room. Sherlock watching Gladstone’s every move, and smiling when he made a particularly good catch. John grinned. He’d tell Sherlock eventually, explain his reasons and hope that he would be forgiven. Then he’d kiss Sherlock, because he knew that Sherlock loved him too. That the icy exterior was just a facade. 

“Tea Sherlock?” He asked filling up the kettle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to JoannaD for the Latin quote. Again hanks to all of my readers too for helping me write this piece. Hope you liked the twist!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tells Sherlock the truth.

John put two cups of tea on the coffee table and sat down beside Sherlock.

“I have something to tell you Sherlock and I think you may want me to move out.” Sherlock put down the book he was reading.

“Go on.”

“The other week when I was drugged.” John paused rubbing the top of his nose. “I drugged myself.” Sherlock frowned.

“Why are you telling me this John?” John looked at Sherlock aside from the frown, his demeanour hadn’t changed.

“Because I have to.” Sherlock looked John in the eye.

“You want me to ask you why you did something that stupid.” John lifted an eyebrow.

“Actually I’d prefer if you didn’t and we just drank our tea quietly.” Sherlock smirked.

“Why John?” John put his hand on his forehead. He’d walked straight into that one.

“Because I wanted to tell you things I can’t say normally.” Now Sherlock was looking him in the eye, waiting. John took a deep breath. “Like, I love you.” Sherlock sipped his tea grimacing as he realised how hot it was.

“And you had to take Rophenol to be able to say that?” Sherlock rubbed the arm of the sofa absently. “No, it was something else you wanted. You wanted me to take advantage of you.” John nodded.

“I’m not gay Sherlock, I just, oh I don’t know what I wanted now it all seems so surreal.” Sherlock put his cup on the coffee table.

“How do you feel now John? Any better?” John looked up his eyes red, ashamed.

“I didn’t tell you to make myself feel better I told you because you’re my friend, and I hope you’ll still consider me one after this. I’ll move out today if that’s what you want.” Sherlock didn’t know how to feel, he was torn between wanting to punch John and kissing him. He settled for the first of the two.

“Owe fuck! Sherlock.” John yelled rubbing his eye.

“Don’t ever do anything like that again John.” Then Sherlock leaned forward and brushed his lips against John’s. John responded clutching the back of Sherlock’s head his fingers twisting in the silky curls, moving his mouth against Sherlock’s. After a few minutes Sherlock pulled back, his phone was vibrating in his pocket. Sherlock took it out and looked at the text.

“Lestrade, we have a case.” Sherlock Jumped up happily and put on his coat. “Come on John.” John sighed, he was going to kill Lestrade.


End file.
